Who on planet Earth can understand a woman
You wouldn’t understand these hips,
All you see is a toy to chew on,
To tear and rip as you please,
And think I can only beg at your knees.
You don’t know me, fool.
All you know is every woman’s shape,
The batting of her eyelashes,
The pink of her lips,
But that ain’t me.
You wanna deal with a real woman?
Then follow my lead.
I don’t beg like your puppy,
I don’t drool like you when you’re sleeping,
Naw, that just ain’t me.
I work too damn hard for you to be the farmer,
And for me to be your sheep.
Sorry, my pride ain’t for sale
And my lovin’ is not that cheap.
You gotta put in work for a woman like me.
I hope you didn’t think that this was
An ode to my love for just you.
Naw, that ain’t it.
How about a endearing message of how I am your slave,
Nope, that’s not it either.
With that mentality, my brother,
Go ‘head and dig your own grave.
I’m not a woman to play with,
I’m definitely not G.I. Joe,
More like G.I. Jane
Because I’m the only woman who stays in her own box,
And in her own lane.
Oh, and if you noticed my beautiful color,
Black and gorgeous, right?
Mess with my emotions,
Mess with my young,
Be prepared to fight
and to lose.
Oh, so now you realize it’s hard being my shoes.
So while you crack jokes
And try so desperately to find out about me,
You could never,
Even in your lifetime,
Try to find a woman even similar,
Or even better
© Olivia Rose Murphy and Liv By The Pen, December 28, 2012. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Olivia Rose Murphy and Liv By The Pen with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.